


Standing, Waiting

by jimkirkachu (burning_spirit)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Caring James T. Kirk, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drama, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Overload, Established Relationship, Eye Sex, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Forehead Kisses, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Headcanon, Holding Hands, Hugging/Embracing, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Interspecies Romance, James T. Kirk Loves Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock Fluff, Kirk is hopelessly in love, Kissing, Light Petting, M/M, Married Couple, Married James T. Kirk/Spock, McCoy with the assist, Mentions of Sex, OTP Feels, Old Married Couple, Old Married James T. Kirk/Spock, Old Married Spirk Challenge, Old Married Spirk Challenge 2020, One Shot, Overwhelmed, Post-Five Year Mission, Protective James T. Kirk, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sensuality, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Space Husbands, Spock Loves James T. Kirk, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, Sweet, T'hy'la, Temporary Amnesia, Tenderness, Touch Telepathy, Touching, True Love, Vulcan, Vulcan Bond, Vulcan Culture, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Language, Vulcan Mind Melds, Vulnerable Spock (Star Trek), Worried James T. Kirk, k/s - Freeform, old married spirk, otp, so in love it hurts, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27815959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burning_spirit/pseuds/jimkirkachu
Summary: Admiral Kirk, having successfully boarded Commander Kruge’s hijacked ship with the resurrected Captain Spock in tow, has retired to his new quarters for the first half of their eight-hour flight to Vulcan.  Unable to rest on account of the dramatic and conflicting emotions brought on by his husband’s miraculous reincarnation, fragile state, and uncertain future, Kirk is unexpectedly visited in the night by the one person aboard the ship whom he’snotsupposed to see.Set near the end ofStar Trek III: The Search for Spock, after the crew’s takeover of the Klingon ship and before their arrival at Vulcan for the ritual re-fusion of Spock’s body and soul.  An attempt to reconcile the obviously living and conscious reincarnated Spock with the assessment that his mind is “a void” without the spirit he entrusted to Dr. McCoy.  WhoisSpock between the Genesis planet and Vulcan, and what’s really going on within him?
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55
Collections: Old Married Spirk





	Standing, Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Old Married Spirk Challenge 2020](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/oldmarriedspirk), hosted as always by the unparalleled [plaidshirtjimkirk](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk). This is another in a long line of ideas I’ve been working on and trying to wrangle into a presentable form for years, so (like with my past OMS submissions) I’m eminently thankful that the Challenge has again given me the kick in the pants I need to finish something! And I’m especially thankful for plaid hosting the Challenge despite this having been such a mess of a year!!! Here’s hoping that _everybody’s_ lives are a darn sight better in 2021.
> 
> Rated M for brief sexuality. And be advised that there is a great deal of headcanon indulgence and experimentation with/exploitation of the ambiguous intervals of time in films… that is, I’ve taken advantage of the fact that the movie doesn’t explicitly specify precisely how much time elapses between scenes. ;)
> 
> Please refer to the end notes for Vulcan translations (also in hover text!) and more thoughts.
> 
> Units are in metric, since as an American I am embarrassed by the arbitrariness of our measuring system and hopeful that it will be long out of use by the 2260’s. ;)
> 
> Special thanks to winonakirk57 and plaid for their invaluable beta services!!

Alarmed not by the door swishing open but by the person it revealed on the other side, Admiral James T. Kirk jumped up from the hard slab that was supposed to be a bed.

“ _Spock?!_ ”

Predictably, he was met with silence.

As Kirk stood agape, shirtless and barefoot in his maroon pants, Spock took in every part of his half-naked body with his intense, inquisitive, urgent gaze. The admiral shivered, indulging for a moment in the heavenly feeling of having Spock’s beautiful, hypnotizing eyes raking over him once more, as if for the first time.

 _I was never supposed to feel this way again_ , the restless admiral thought. _You were never going to look at me again, or speak to me, or touch me._

The fact of this preposterous reality, this miraculous course of events which had led to Spock actually standing in the doorway of Kirk’s temporary quarters left the Human speechless. He was thoroughly, heart-wrenchingly overwhelmed, in just about every conceivable sense of the word.

_Don’t make me cry, Spock. It’s all I’ve done for weeks now, and I can’t take it anymore._

With a deep breath, Kirk opened his arms in a gesture of invitation. The unspeaking Vulcan hesitated a moment, but then came toward him slowly, to Kirk’s immense relief. The door slid shut behind him, leaving them in a warm, semi-dark bubble of privacy.

Spock stopped before he was within reach, so Kirk lowered his hands and tilted his head, scanning the handsome body and face in front of him to assure himself that he wasn’t hurt or in pain. After all, not twenty minutes earlier, McCoy’s uncompromising tone had given him (and everyone else) explicit instructions not to interfere with the scientist while they were en route. And as much as he’d wanted to disobey that directive, Kirk had behaved himself out of an abundance of caution. The thought that he might accidentally do something in their eight- or nine-hour journey to further weaken or permanently inhibit Spock’s chances at recovery was utterly intolerable.

Mercifully, Spock appeared physically to be alright, if a little frazzled; his hair was disheveled in the same sexy way it always used to be when he woke up in the morning. Kirk’s lips hinted at a tiny smile at the reminder of all the wonderful times he’d gotten to roll onto his side and card his fingers through that unkempt mop of silken hair, all the spectacular grins and purrs and kisses he’d gotten out of his lover for the gentle act.

Telegraphing his motions so as not to scare his executive officer, Kirk moved the slightest bit closer and planted his hands firmly but with tenderness on the familiar black fabric covering Spock’s upper arms—he was still wearing the robes they’d buried him in, and the realization made Kirk’s already troubled heart ache even more. He caught the Vulcan’s wide, frantic eyes with his own forcibly calm ones and tried to read them.

This individual looked just like his familiar old Spock, but seemed almost like a child, mutely observing his surroundings with wonder and a lack of recognition. Kirk pushed back against his desire to run his hands all over that lithe, elegant body, reminding himself that this was still not fully Spock. He let his hands slide, defeated, down Spock’s arms, lingering on the velvety sleeves of his robe a little too long while staring yearningly up into those lovely dark brown eyes.

Spock stepped much closer then, leaving only a few centimeters of clearance between them. His hand rose, slowly approached Kirk’s face, and stopped in midair. Was it the gash on Kirk’s forehead that made him pause? Or was it a general apprehension over the prospect of touching him at all? His blank expression gave no hint as to the nature of whatever thoughts were churning behind his eyes.

At his tentative expression and body language, Kirk, straining to keep his voice calm, said, “It’s alright.” Remembering the millions of times they’d been this close before, his body screamed at him to embrace his first, best officer as usual, to unleash his passion upon him. He forced his need down, of course, certain that it would frighten the unaware Vulcan. Adopting his gentlest bedroom tones in an attempt not to sound over-eager, he coaxed, “Meld with me.”

Spock still hesitated, unsure what to do.

“Please,” Kirk said, covering Spock’s hand with his own and bringing it to cup his cheek.

Given the explicit invitation and the contented way Kirk closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and leaned his face into Spock’s hand, the Vulcan took over. Furrowing his brow, Spock concentrated and slowly placed his fingers at Kirk’s psi points, eliciting a peculiar but endearing whimper-like sound from the admiral’s throat; he paused, thinking Kirk might be in pain, but continued when the early hints of a smile appeared on the commanding officer’s lips and his other facial muscles seemed to relax at his touch and his presence in Kirk’s mind. Even as his hands recalled the meld techniques, it appeared that Spock was actively working at remembering how to join their psyches properly.

Kirk’s thoughts immediately reverberated within their shared mental space before his brain registered that it was no longer alone. _Parted from me, never, always touching… Oh, Spock, please… come into my mind again. Please…_

And then, Spock’s voice emerged.

_I do not know who you are._

Kirk’s extraordinary restraint sifted through to Spock, who wavered at the sensation and his own lack of context.

 _I do not know who I am_, the Vulcan continued, _but I know that you are important to me. Something I cannot comprehend has drawn me to you._

 _Yes,_ Kirk responded, still getting his bearings while also straining against his enthusiasm, his elation at sharing his mind with Spock again. _I understand._

 _I do not know in what way,_ Spock resumed, almost shyly, _but I need you, whomever you are._

The phenomenon of the Vulcan mind meld, once so alien to Kirk, had become nearly as familiar to him as breathing over the course of the years he and Spock had shared with one another. He’d felt almost suffocated without it over the past several weeks, unable to find any mentally-stabilizing substitute since Spock’s death. He had tried redoubling his exercise schedule, fasting, reading, even meditating as Spock had instructed him so many times, but nothing could fill the void left by his second in command.

 _I know… I need you, too_ , Kirk replied, aware that his partner could already feel his desperation but wishing to properly express it all the same.

 _What is…_ Spock thought, confounded. _I do not understand. I… widowed you? What does this mean?_

 _Don’t worry about that right now, sweetheart_ , Kirk responded, grimacing inwardly at the unintentional but selfish thought that had prompted Spock’s frustration. _You haven’t done anything wrong. And you’ll understand everything soon enough._

He sensed only mild dissatisfaction from Spock at that, but then the Vulcan leaned into Kirk’s mental presence with the reticence of a startled animal who knew that the creature attempting to soothe him could be trusted. Even as Spock allowed himself to be comforted, though, Kirk felt him remaining alert for the time being, still not completely convinced that he could let his guard down.

For Kirk, however, this return to their mental realm was like breaching the surface of an ocean at the very moment he’d resigned himself to running out of air and drowning. It was the desperate, unexpected gasp of oxygen into his lungs that his very life depended on, and he still couldn’t believe it was real.

Readjusting to the ethereal space they used to frequent, Kirk felt Spock’s bashfulness, if it could be labeled as such, and heard his own voice echoing through ears which revered it and trembled at the sound of it. Momentarily tugged out of his conscious perspective, he listened to his own words filtered through an illogical fog that made them sound like satin, like gentle cleansing rains after a drought.

 _I need you, Spock_ , he thought, going for broke. _I love you. I love you with everything that I am._

The two men in the hijacked Klingon ship’s cabin drew closer to one another as the mind meld progressed. Entirely of their own accord, the admiral’s fingers softly slid down Spock’s hand where it was pressed to his forehead and curled delicately, distractedly around his wrist.

At Spock’s deferential and mystified silence within their meld, Kirk added, _Why else would I have come for you? You’re more important to me than my own son was._

Images of David flashed through from his mind into Spock’s, and Kirk saw him suddenly realize that the man who had given his life to protect him and the Vulcan-Romulan female had been this other man’s child.

 _Yes, Spock; David was my son_ , Kirk said, flooded with grief as he recalled David’s motionless body on the planet’s surface, then witnessed his death through Spock’s eyes.

Sharing the influx of emotion, Spock sensed that he should say something by way of consolation. _He gave his life defending another_ , he said. _Clearly, it is a trait he inherited, for you also risked your life to find me—although I still do not understand why._

 _Many people…_ Kirk began.

He didn't quite know how to continue, so instead he stared deep into the Vulcan’s eyes in their mental plane. He saw Spock’s most recent experience with him, looking up from the rocky surface of a strange planet—Kirk’s balled-up jacket beneath his head—to behold a backlit and nearly angelic silhouette of the Human pulling him to his feet. They shared the memory of Spock slumping against Kirk’s chest, head lolling over his shoulder, the protective warmth and urgent pressure of Kirk’s strong arms around his back granting them mutual comfort.

In the memory, Kirk’s voice whispered, rough with emotion, “My Spock… I thought I would never hold you again.” They both felt Kirk quickly caressing the back of Spock’s hair, placing his lips on the forehead matted with mussed bangs, then leaning his cheek against Spock’s head. The admiral felt like _home_ to him, projecting warmth, a familiar sense of security, and an intoxicating musky aroma as they stood flush against one another.

Kirk experienced the confusion Spock had harbored since his rebirth being almost instantly replaced by a deep sense of belonging while wrapped in Kirk’s embrace. To their shared dismay, the feeling was all too brief; Kirk had choked out something that sounded like a Klingon phrase, and as a transporter beam began to scatter their cells, he’d shifted Spock’s body in his arms and adopted a defensive stance, phaser somewhere behind them.

In a haze of shapes and colors which Kirk knew to be the bridge of the Klingon vessel, they heard Kirk’s voice, on edge, bark something indistinguishable just before they were torn apart and taken in separate directions. While Spock retraced Kirk’s steps before their current meeting, Kirk followed Spock’s memory into a nearby chamber with Dr. McCoy, who laid him on a makeshift table to examine him.

A few moments later, Saavik came in to assist the physician, and as they ran diagnostics on Spock and patched up his most critical injuries, they determined he would need to initiate a healing trance to promote his convalescence during the trip to Vulcan. After escorting him to a suite of rooms which McCoy disapprovingly identified as “what passes for a sickbay around here” and getting him settled in the battered ship’s least damaged biobed, the doctor left him in Saavik’s care so he could get up to speed on the bridge and find out if any of the crew needed medical attention.

The memory swirled into darkness—Spock’s healing trance—and when the images returned, McCoy had taken over for Saavik, who was gone. Lying still and only peeking through squinting eyelids, Spock had waited until the doctor went into the adjacent office before sitting up. Kirk’s interest piqued as the Vulcan rose from his trance and his bed, silenced McCoy’s protestations (despite their being entirely warranted) with a gentle nerve pinch, and moved the limp man to the chair he’d leapt out of, positioning him with his arms folded beneath his head on the desk.

When the memory had Spock finally sneaking out of sickbay, Kirk chuckled to himself, which caused a small rivulet of confusion to trickle into their shared senses from Spock’s side of the meld.

Still looking through Spock’s eyes in the recollection, Kirk realized that there was a strange tug in his belly that pulled oddly at him, as if demanding he follow it by instinct. It was coming from roughly where his liver would be.

 _No… where your heart is_ , Kirk thought, listening for Spock’s heartbeat in their meld and feeling the beautiful languid rhythm of it melting the tension away from his whole body.

The strange but powerful force had compelled Spock through the corridors of the Klingon ship, leading him to a closed door with strange symbols etched into it.

 _Letters_ , Kirk thought helpfully, _in Klingonese._

Spock’s hands carefully touched the cold metal behind which he had simply _known_ that someone of the utmost importance to him was waiting. The vision began to blur as the door parted in the center, but Kirk made out a figure with maroon legs and a tanned-ivory chest rising from a prone position across the room before the memory dissolved.

Kirk understood in a fraction of a second that while he’d been watching Spock’s activities, his mind had likewise shown Spock _his_ evening of establishing shift times with Scott, Sulu, and Chekov on the bridge; being accompanied by a cautiously enthusiastic Chekov, who was also scheduled to rest for the first watch, to the door of his new cabin, where they parted company; and (McCoy being otherwise occupied) tending to his superficial head, shoulder, and chest wounds himself once he was alone. He felt Spock struggling to comprehend the beginnings of physical arousal stirring within him at the sight of Kirk removing his jacket and shirt. Radiating amusement, relief, and affection, Kirk joined Spock in watching the replay, which ultimately had the admiral restlessly pacing in the dimly-lit cabin and fighting the urge to pester the recovering Vulcan.

Their flashbacks synchronizing, Kirk allowed his thoughts to lead them through a quick visual synopsis of Spock’s death and funeral, then through flashes of the crew’s adventures returning to the Genesis planet. Profoundly affected by Kirk’s residual mourning, self-loathing, and utter hopelessness in the wake of his death, Spock nevertheless projected an intense impression of awe created by this rediscovery of his identity, his relationship to the world around him, and the faces of people who looked familiar but whose names he could not recall.

 _Many people risked their lives to find you_ , Kirk muttered, finally picking up where they’d left off.

Spock felt Kirk’s humility. _At your insistence,_ he pressed. _Why?_

Kirk made every effort to put up his telepathic shields as his thoughts threatened to betray him, turning in rapid bursts to remembrances of his and Spock’s intimacies. Even after only a few weeks without his lover, though, he was out of practice enough that his defenses did remarkably little to contain any of those passionate memories.

 _You’re my soul, Spock_, he said.

Spock stared into him, silent, while curiosity bloomed across his face, until Kirk sensed that he was waiting for an explanation.

 _You are exercising considerable restraint_ , Spock said.

 _Yes_ , Kirk responded, embarrassed.

 _Do not_ , Spock insisted.

A blush took over Kirk’s cheeks as he let his mental dam burst (he never could resist his mate’s wishes, after all). He watched, his aura warming with timidity, as this naïve version of Spock glimpsed a series of otherwise deeply private visions of himself engaged in countless passionate scenes with Kirk: their young and virile bodies entwined and gyrating; mouths in their prime locked and exploring one another; middle-aged hands tenderly roaming over the planes of each other’s naked limbs. One particularly powerful memory unfolded through Kirk’s point of view, showing Spock climbing to orgasm above him, eyes rolling back in his head, gasping for breath, whispering Kirk’s name among long, low moans.

The meld brought the shockwaves of Kirk’s reverence, fervor, and avaricious love for Spock to the fore, despite the admiral’s efforts at holding back to spare the innocent and uncomprehending Vulcan. The vision began to focus in on the expression on Spock’s face, the sensations of warmth, safety, fullness taking over Kirk’s entire form, and the strangely disembodied feeling of Spock’s organ emptying itself into him. Then, refusing to be withheld from the interactive recollection, the force of Kirk’s own orgasm slammed mercilessly into both of them.

As they shared the memory, Spock was overcome by the emotional link and the altogether devastating pleasure surging through them. His eyes flew open, and Kirk slowly opened his own. They stared intensely at one another both mentally and corporeally.

 _I apologize if I’ve… overwhelmed you,_ Kirk thought, shame creeping into their bond. It was only then that he realized his joined index and middle fingers had been caressing Spock’s wrist in an instinctive, involuntary _ozh’esta_. He stilled his hand and attempted to remove himself from their close proximity.

Something—something that must have been coming from Spock’s mind—pushed the shame away and replaced it with a tender, reassuring feeling, one that simultaneously seemed to be searching, reaching for him. Meanwhile, Spock’s free hand covered Kirk’s, keeping it against his wrist with a forcefully reciprocated _ozh’esta_. Kirk gasped at the contact, trembling at Spock’s intimate gesture.

 _Help me_ , came Spock’s voice, more desperate than it had ever been—more overcome with emotion than Kirk had ever heard. _I need you… need… your touch… Jim…_

Kirk took Spock’s hand in his, breaking their meld. He kissed the pads of his fingers, earning a shudder from the surprised and vulnerable Vulcan.

 _Bones will kill me for this_ , he thought to himself.

He wadded up as many pieces of discarded clothing as he could find and placed the impromptu pillow at the head of the slab he’d been lying on earlier. Pulling Spock down onto the hard Klingon bed, Kirk wrapped his arms around him, tangled their legs together, and protectively pressed Spock’s face into the crook of his neck.

In return, Spock’s arms squeezed so tightly around the admiral’s midsection that he almost couldn’t breathe.

“I have you,” Kirk said as Spock cuddled impossibly close, inhaled his scent, and nuzzled and kneaded his skin like a cat. “I have you. I don’t know what awaits us on Vulcan, but I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

Kirk worshipfully kissed Spock’s forehead, then continued thinking _I have you_ and _never let you go_ to his beloved, stroking his hair until he felt Spock’s consciousness drift either into sleep or a healing trance, he wasn’t certain which. It wasn’t much longer before Kirk, still chanting _I have you_ and _love you_ and _never leave_ in his head, floated into an auspiciously dreamless sleep himself.

* * * * *

[Stardate 8211.4]

[08:20:31] Personal log, supplemental.

[08:20:39] I’m not sure if I…

[08:20:54] Spock.

[08:21:01] _Spock._

[08:21:05] _My Spock_ is…

[08:21:17] He’s _alive_.

**Author's Note:**

> Vulcan translation:
> 
>  _ozh’esta_ = finger embrace, a touching of the index and middle fingers between bondmates
> 
> *Translation taken from the Vulcan Language Dictionary at https://www.starbase-10.de/vld/ and korsaya.org
> 
> The title is taken from a line of Kirk’s in the film which is actually a Milton reference. During the scene in his apartment near the beginning, Chekov asks Kirk whether they’ll be getting a new ship (since he’s just told them that the _Enterprise_ is to be decommissioned). Kirk responds, “I can’t get an answer. Starfleet is up to its brass in galactic conference. No one has time for those who only stand and wait.” His allusion is to John Milton’s sonnet, “When I Consider How My Light is Spent,” which ends with the line, “They also serve who only stand and wait.”
> 
> I find this to be a particularly poignant reference, because by the end of the film, Kirk has learned that, had circumstances been different before Spock’s death, he himself would have been the recipient of his spirit, meaning Kirk— _not_ McCoy—would have been the one risking his life with Spock on Mt. Seleya. Instead he finds himself on the sidelines at the end of the film, feeling completely helpless to ensure that his soulmate _and_ his best friend come out of the ritual alive. Of course, we know that without Kirk, Spock’s soul never would have gotten back to Vulcan in the first place. And we K/S shippers know that the strength and purity of their bond surely plays an important role in the success of the ritual… because of _course_ it does!! But in the heart-wrenching montage, Kirk agonizes over having to simply stand and wait (and worry himself sick) while Spock and McCoy lie there facing all the danger, and while the assembled Vulcans (including Saavik) are at least able to support them telepathically. Kirk’s forgotten his own allusion to the poetic idea that even people who seem and/or feel helpless in a given situation can still be of service merely by being present and by caring. It’s a beautiful idea, and it’s such an easy thing to miss in the script, so I wanted to call a little attention to it, not only through the title but also by giving Kirk a chance to tangibly affect Spock’s recovery by providing him physical/emotional comfort during a tumultuous, vulnerable time for his mate. <3
> 
> This story came about because I honestly don't understand how Spock’s reincarnated body can be alive, walking around, growing and maturing, etc. while his mind is supposedly empty. I know McCoy is probably speaking in the spiritual sense when he tells Kirk that his mind is vacant (like the way Saavik describes him as being “not himself, but he lives”), but that got me wondering what such a thing would actually be like, particularly for the living-but-not-sentient individual themselves. Surely Spock’s shell has _some_ kind of thoughts/emotions—we see him experiencing pain, for instance, and just because he doesn’t yet have Spock’s memories, knowledge, or personality doesn’t mean he has nothing in his mind at all. The body can’t live without the mind, right?
> 
> I also took artistic license with the cut in the film where one moment they’re leaving the Mutara Sector/the Genesis planet’s orbit and the next moment they’re immediately arriving on Vulcan. Wouldn’t that trip plausibly have taken at least, I don’t know, ten minutes or more? Even at warp speeds deep space travel is a lengthy process, so I decided to stretch it out and play with the possibility that it may have taken a considerable amount of time for the gang to reach Spock’s home planet.
> 
> Of course, I also had the devious ulterior motive of wanting to see Kirk interacting with and taking care of Spock-Not-Spock. Obviously, Kirk wouldn't dream of taking advantage of his delicate state and lack of self-awareness. He's far too much of a gentleman to even think of doing anything inappropriate with Spock’s body as long as he knows his soul hasn’t been restored to him yet. But I liked the notion of him still wanting to provide some means of comfort to the shell of his husband, who at several points in the film appears to be frightened, confused, and in pain. It also seems to me that their telepathic bond would be attempting to reunite them in any/every possible way, so maybe some portion of that bond is purely tied to the physical body, and Spock-Not-Spock feels an instinctive attraction to Kirk purely because he _is_ Spock in physiological form.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this one! A sequel is on its way, so in the meantime consider checking out ["Lead Me Home"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16696873) (my end-of- _Star-Trek-IV_ fic) and/or my other stories. :)
> 
> ((Psst! Hey! Come space out with me on Tumblr! I’m [jimkirkachu](https://jimkirkachu.tumblr.com/) over there and I always love to make more Trek and K/S friends!))


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